With Friends Like You, Who Needs Enemies?
by LordMaster6
Summary: For the most part, Clarke Griffin's wedding goes according to plan, it's as exactly perfect as one would expect...
1. Clarke

For the most part, Clarke Griffin's wedding goes according to plan, it's as exactly perfect as one would expect for the wedding between a newly crowned King and the Princess of a neighbouring kingdom. The gravity of the occasion escapes no one, this auspicious day would be remembered as one on which two nations with a long history of war forged a permanent peace through a marriage that would merge them into one great nation. It was meant to be the greatest achievement of their lives, and as such it was to be shared with as many people as possible. Instead of performing the wedding in the cavernous chapel behind the palace, the couple said their vows from a platform constructed atop the palace wall, allowing the thousands of citizens of Arkton to witness. Throughout the crowds footmen with megaphones relayed the vows so that everyone could hear.

Following the wedding, the royal couple would mount up to lead a parade through the city. Hundreds of troops dressed in the colours of both nations stood in the crowd, ready to force them back to make a path. Following the parade, the nobility would retreat to the palace for a great feast, whilst wagons bearing bread, skewers of grilled meat and barrels of wine rolled out into the streets to feed the city.

It was to be the greatest party in recorded history, one which the amalgamated council for the new nation assured them would appease the voices of dissent through the city. For as much the people wanted to see an end to the decades of war, uniting under one banner with the same people their fathers and grandfathers had fought and died against was a difficult proposition for many.

Clarke sometimes felt similarly. Her father King Jacob Griffin had died a year ago in one of the last battles of the war. King Jacob had been an advocate for peace, but when that failed to come about he led the Griffin army from the front and died as a result. Her mother had begged him to stay in the rear, protected by his guards. But Jacob refused to send men to die in his name if he wasn't also prepared to risk his life for the same cause.

It was for Jacob that Clarke ignored her mother's wishes and reached out to the Jaha family to forge this peace accord. Clarke had gone to negotiate the peace herself with Prince Wells Jaha. Whilst privately the Prince had expressed his desire to see peace, his father would accept nothing less than surrender. Clarke had ridden away from the talks feeling despondent, having failed to bring about her father's dying wish.

But a week later King Thelonius died, poisoned at his own table. Initially the Griffin kingdom was blamed, but the subsequent investigation found the culprit to be a cook in the Jaha palace kitchens. The woman had lost her husband and two sons to the war already, and her third son had just been drafted into the army in preparation for the renewal of hostilities.

After a three month period of mourning, King Wells Jaha rode into the Griffin kingdom to negotiate a lasting peace. There, he and Clarke decided that the best way to ensure peace beyond their time was to merge their kingdoms through marriage. Though she did not love Wells, Clarke liked and respected him for his like mindedness. In time maybe they would find love, but a marriage built on friendship was certainly more than most girls could lay claim to.

So Clarke left the Griffin kingdom, escorted by her own guards and a contingent of Jaha's soldiers led by Captain Bellamy Blake. Through her ladies in waiting Clarke learnt that Blake was highest ranked soldier to not come from a noble family. He'd made his name in the fighting as a ruthless leader, in his first battle against a Griffin army five years ago, his company was cut off and with many of its officers killed, Bellamy had taken command and fought back the enemy until reinforcements arrived. In the end, a hundred soldiers walked away from a battle in which they'd been outnumbered six to one.

Following that battle, the survivors were rewarded. Bellamy was made an officer and the entire company was transferred to the King's personal bodyguards. It wasn't enough to save Thelonius though, Clarke wondered if that was the reason why Captain Blake always looked so angry and bitter.

During the wedding planning Clarke remembered Bellamy fiercely opposing the location of the ceremony, and the parade afterwards. He called it an unnecessary security risk, insisting that the King did not have to risk his safety so that a bunch of peasants could bear witness. The peace would stand regardless. Wells had overruled Blake, dismissing his grave assessment of the unrest throughout the capital. They were about to make peace with their greatest enemy. The people wanted this, Wells insisted.

* * *

All these thoughts rushed through Clarke's mind in the moment her wedding was ruined.

One arrow was all it took.

One perfectly aimed, perfectly timed arrow. Just as Wells lowered his head to kiss his new bride, the arrow sailed through the air and through the King's neck, coming out his throat. Clarke stared at the arrow head that was literally right before her eyes, as the King's lifeblood splashed out over her wedding dress. Wells made no sound, but by then he was already dead, Clarke didn't need to look up at his vacant eyes to see that. As the King fell forward two armoured hands reached out and grabbed her arms, lifting her out of the way of the body. She was not set down, instead the arms carried her off the platform and down the makeshift stairs she'd just climbed minutes ago.

She could hear Captain Blake screaming orders to his men over the noises of the crowd and the cries of the nobility selected to witness from the platform itself. After a moment Clarke realised that it was Blake carrying her down the stairs as fast as he could move. He continued to carry her across the courtyard and into the palace. Clarke wasn't even sure her feet touched the ground in the courtyard as she rapidly regained awareness of her surroundings.

When she noticed the way Blake's men violently forced anyone in front of them out of the way she wanted to say something, but she couldn't find her voice. Clarke touched her throat and glanced down at the feeling of wetness, blood. She wasn't even entirely sure it wasn't hers, she couldn't feel anything apart from the grip Captain Blake had on her arms as he forced her into the castle.

Clarke wasn't particularly familiar with the layout of the castle, so she didn't know where they were headed until Miller and Murphy pushed a door open and Blake marched her into her former chambers. 'Nobody comes in here! No one!' Blake ordered, pushing the door closed in the faces of his lieutenants.

'What the hell are you doing Captain, why aren't you out there with Wells?' Clarke demanded as Blake faced her again, Blake snorted in amusement which faded as his eyes took in the blood on her gown.

'I thought you were the healer, Princess. We both know the King died the moment he took that arrow.' Bellamy replied, he had one hand resting on the pommel of his sword as the other hooked over his belt.

'I still demand to know why you dragged me here.'

'Isn't it obvious? I'm interrogating the chief suspect in the King's assassination.'

'You think I killed Wells? That's insane! If that arrow had been even an inch to the left or the right, I'd have been killed as well.'

'Assassins who are that good don't come cheap. But then, I'm sure you could find a way to pay for it, Princess.' Bellamy remarked as he reached out to flick one of her diamond earrings.

'I didn't kill Wells!'

'Did you love him?' Bellamy asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Clarke sighed and backed down into a chair. 'No, but I liked him. Not just because we wanted the same things, he was a good man. I think we could have been happy.'

'How very romantic, epic story for the ages right there.' Bellamy smirked as he took a seat a few feet away from the princess, she watched as he propped his feet up on the small table separating them. 'If you were wondering, I do believe that you are innocent of this crime.'

'Oh, good. I'll certainly be able to rest easy now.' Clarke retorted sarcastically.

'Princess, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that today's events have robbed you of your good sense. But it's actually very important that I believe you, because no one else will and I'm the only one standing between you and a very public execution for High Treason.' Bellamy explained, waving towards the door.

'If I'm killed, the war between our nations will definitely resume.'

'Yes, and my people will lose because the nobility will be too busy fighting each other for the crown to commit their troops to the real war.' Bellamy said, voicing Clarke's thoughts. 'This is why I will keep you alive, and ensure that you live to be crowned Queen of our new nation. We need peace.'

'I'm glad you are able to see sense, Captain.' Clarke replied straightening in her chair. 'I promise you, as Queen I will make building a prosperous and peaceful nation my greatest priority.'

Bellamy stared at her for a moment, before he tossed his head back and laughed. 'Oh, Princess. You will be Queen, but in name only. I'm not going to all this trouble of keeping you safe so I can entrust the future to _you_. No, you'll sit at the council meetings, and you'll wear the crown. But now I'm going to be running things. You're going to put me on the council as your trusted advisor and commander of the army. When I make suggestions to the council, you will support them. I'm tired of seeing your people destroy mine. I'm tired of watching scrawny peasant boys die in a field because two nobles couldn't sort out their differences like the gentlemen that they claim to be.'

'You can't seriously think that's going to happen.'

'It will, because the moment you decide to try and be Queen I'll announce that my investigation has found that you were responsible for the King's death. Your life is in my hands, don't forget that.' Bellamy stood. 'I'll have your ladies in waiting sent in so that they can clean you up. Then I'm going to inform the council that your coronation will be brought forward to tomorrow morning. Can't leave the nation without a ruler for long.'

* * *

Clarke didn't have to scramble to find something appropriate in black. Only a matter of weeks ago she had still been in mourning for her father. Wells had still been mourning his, he'd been wearing black at the wedding. As the High Priestess continued to recite her prayer Clarke peered out over the assembled crowd through her eyelashes. She hadn't seen this many people in black since her father's funeral. Doubtless she would see even more tomorrow when they buried her husband of thirty seconds.

The weight of the crown made her neck ache and she was suddenly glad that it was only ceremonial. Clarke had to stifle a hysterical burst of laughter at that thought, because wasn't it just the perfect metaphor? A ceremonial crown, fit for a Queen in name only.

Her eyes scanned the crowd until she found the one person who wasn't praying either. Bellamy Blake sat in the front row, staring up at her. The intensity of his gaze made Clarke want to look away, instead she stared right back at him. His mouth curved into a slow smile as the prayers finished and everyone's eyes returned to her. Clarke didn't need to look to see the hostility evident in their eyes, it had been there long before the wedding and nothing that had happened since had abated it.

Usually the coronation would be followed by another parade and a feast, but with King Wells dead for less than a day, no one saw it as appropriate. Instead Captain Blake marched her into the council chambers. He stopped outside the door fixing her with a significant look before she turned and left him there.

Clarke walked around the table to sit in the throne as the other councillors filed in. Clarke sat there and watched them, some like General Shumway were better at hiding their feelings at the sight of her on the throne. Others, like Lord Kane, were not so subtle. Clarke hadn't slept the night before as she considered the ramifications of refusing to bow to Captain Blake's blackmail demands. Sitting there in front of a hostile council, Clarke realised that she needed Blake. Certainly she would not live long without his support. Perhaps with time she would make allies of her own and free herself of his control, but for now it was enough to be sitting in the throne.

'I welcome you all to my council, I know these are dark times but I am certain we can overcome the troubles we are facing, together.' Clarke began, predicably no one present was very impressed. 'As my first order of business, I wish to invite Captain Bellamy Blake to join this council of advisors. I also wish to promote the Captain to the rank of General. He shall lead my armies.'

General Shumway's neutral mask dropped at that, he glared at her as Clarke instructed the footman standing by the door to admit Captain Blake. Clarke went through the formality of offering him the promotion, which he accepted. Blake then turned to General Shumway.

'Pardon my language, but get out of my damn chair.' Blake ordered, battling to keep from smiling. Shumway kicked the chair back and stood, glaring at the new General. 'Shumway when your superior officer gives you an order, you have to salute them.' Blake mocked, as Clarke watched the display she couldn't help thinking that there was definitely some history there. After a long moment Shumway saluted and marched out of the room. Blake sat down and looked to Clarke to continue.

The rest of the council meeting was taken up by the other councillors expressing their various concerns and making suggestions to Clarke as to what she should be doing. Clarke thanked them all for their thoughts and promised answers in due time. It was all very civilised, possibly because General Blake didn't say anything for the entirety of the meeting. The one order she gave in that first meeting was to the General, instructing him to use any and all means to find those responsible for killing Wells Jaha. Clarke then ended the meeting, as the members of council stood to leave, she called on Blake to stay. Clarke waited until the room was empty except for them.

'Was that to your liking?' Clarke asked bitterly, Blake shrugged.

'Now I think about it, I do wish more people had been here to see Shumway get his. Otherwise, well done princess.'

'It's your Majesty now.'

'Of course.' Blake replied in a mocking tone.

'You know, a thought occurred to me last night. Everyone here suspects that I killed Wells because I stood to gain the most. But that's not true. You are the one that has really benefited from his death.'

'Well, you're not wrong about that.'

'I'd have expected a lot more emotion from a King's bodyguard who has just watched a second King assassinated on his watch.'

'Do you have something you want to ask me?'

'Are you involved in Wells' death? Clearly you didn't like him, and you certainly didn't waste time making your moves after his death. It's almost like you _knew_ he'd die shortly after we were wed.'

'I could deny these accusations, but I doubt you'd believe me. Anyway, what does it matter if I was the one who killed the King? It does not change your situation at all. No one will take your word over mine, your Majesty.' With those final words General Blake smiled and walked out of the council chambers, leaving Clarke alone to contemplate the depths of trouble that she was in.

**One Shot for now, I don't know if I will continue this.**


	2. Miller

From where Miller stood at the end of the terrace overlooking the palace gardens, he could see his reflection in a pond. The gold trim of his new Captain's uniform glinted in the morning sunshine. He knew it wasn't real gold, but it was a distinction that the former homeless boy didn't care to make.

Originally, Miller hadn't seen the army as anything more than a way to stay clothed and fed through a particularly bad winter. Instead he'd been put into a platoon under the command of Sergeant Blake and sent to the front. They didn't bother giving him a uniform, Murphy said they weren't soldiers but corpses waiting to be buried. Their officers apparently shared that opinion, because as soon as the battle was joined they disappeared into the snow. If it weren't for Bellamy Blake and his fanatical desire to live to see his sister again, Miller would be a corpse in a mass grave on the border.

After their miraculous escape, their officers were summarily executed for cowardice, and Miller was given a uniform. From that moment Miller's commitment to the army and Bellamy Blake resolved. Many of the hundred who survived the battle had moved on over the years, leaving the army as soon as their draft term expired, but not Miller. Now he was a Captain and he had a home. Granted, it was a tiny apartment in a building for single officers permanently assigned to positions in Arkton. But compared to a doorstep in the docks district, it was a palace.

For that reason, he didn't complain when Bellamy assigned him to run the Queen's protection detail, while Murphy got the greater duty of managing the city guard. Miller was sure he'd eventually get tired of standing in the corner watching the Queen and her ladies drinking tea, but it was important work. Queen Clarke was even less popular than King Thelonius ever was, doubtless Miller would see action soon enough.

A footman stepped outside and approached Miller. 'There's a Lord Finn in the courtyard requesting an audience with the Queen. He says he's here on behalf of Queen Abigail.'

'Tell the Queen then.' Miller replied, as the footman approached the Queen, Miller beckoned Drew over and instructed him to inform Bellamy of the Queen's visitor.

Miller watched as the Queen informed the footman to summon Lord Finn, her ladies were sent back to the castle. When the footman returned with Lord Finn, she asked Miller to give them privacy. Miller frowned, he stepped forward and checked Finn over for weapons, ignoring Finn's complaints in the process. Once satisfied that the man was unarmed, he bowed and left the Terrace, closing the door behind him.

Ten minutes later a scowling Bellamy marched up the hallway, followed by Drew at a distance. 'What the hell are you doing out here, Miller?'

'She wanted privacy.' Miller replied, slightly nervous. Bellamy wasn't above punching him out, none of them had forgotten the example he'd made of Atom after the man had been caught kissing Bellamy's sister.

True to form Bellamy grabbed the front of Miller's tunic. 'I don't care what _she _wants, Miller. You don't ever leave her alone with people I don't trust. If she gets herself killed we're all dead too.'

Bellamy opened the door and pushed him through, following Miller onto the terrace. Clarke's laughter died at the sight of the two soldiers, Miller moved back into the position he'd been in earlier. The good looking stranger with long dark hair continued to chuckle as he looked around to see what had caught the Queen's attention.

'Oh, hello. Who's this?' the stranger asked, smiling as he sipped his wine.

'General Blake, he is also on the council.' Clarke replied, her distaste evident in her tone. 'General, this is Lord Finn Collins. My mother sent him to be the first of our representatives on my council.'

Finn jumped up from the chair, offering Bellamy his hand, 'I can't wait to work with you in service of our beautiful Queen.'

Bellamy shook his head. 'Get out, I need to speak with the Queen.'

Finn frowned and took his hand back. 'First, I don't appreciate your tone. Second, I don't take orders from you, General.'

Bellamy looked at the Queen expectantly, she shrugged and sipped at her wine. 'Fine.' Bellamy grabbed the front of Finn's shirt and dragged him out of the room, pushing him out of the door like the young Lord weighed nothing.

'What is wrong with you?' Finn demanded, straightening his tunic.

'So many things. Miller, he stays out here. Think you can handle that?'

'Sir.' Miller grunted, pushing Finn back when the Lord made to step towards the doorway. Bellamy nodded and slammed the door closed, turning on the Queen.

'Friend of yours?'

'Not really, his lands are on the border. Finn's made a name for himself as an adventurer. I don't ever recall seeing him at court.'

Bellamy frowned and folded his arms over his chest. 'So I am to believe that your mother would send a lesser Lord who you do not know and does not know the ways of a Royal court to join your council? Did he tell you that this is why he is here, or does he bear some proof of his mission?'

'Why would he need proof?'

'Because a week ago my King was killed by an assassin who undoubtedly charges a price no common man could afford. Now this young Lord appears who no one knows and declares his right to a seat on the council.' Bellamy shook his head. 'The man has a grounder tattoo on his shoulder, he's clearly spent a deal of time with enemies that we both share.'

'No doubt it would be very convenient for you if Finn was the man responsible for Wells' death. However he carried a letter from my mother confirming his story.' she replied, showing Bellamy the letter.

'Still doesn't explain why she'd choose to put him on the council.' Bellamy grumbled, glancing back at the door.

'I'm going to leave you to your paranoid ramblings, General, because I have places to be.' The Queen announced as she stood up and walked past Bellamy, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

'Where are you going?'

'Well, since you're determined to prevent me from governing, I've decided to go into the city and work as a healer. Hopefully I'll feel like less of a useless figurehead if I'm doing something productive with my time.'

'You realise that half the city thinks you had the King killed, and the other half simply hates you for who you are? This is stupid and dangerous.'

'Don't pretend that you care if I live or die.'

'I do, honestly.'

'But only because I'm the source of your power. That's self-interest, there's a difference.' Clarke pushed his hand away from her and walked out of the room. Bellamy scoffed, then turned on Miller.

'Change out of that fucking shirt and follow her. Take Drew, Connor and Derek with you.' Bellamy ordered him, brushing past Miller to stomp back into the palace.

* * *

Miller almost lost the Queen at the gate, in fact he only realised she was leaving when it occurred to him that pairs of peasant women were rarely seen coming and going from the palace. The others followed Miller as he rushed out into the streets in pursuit. Once he spotted them, he ordered the others to flank the two ladies as he followed from a distance. He had to admire their disguises, the Queen was dressed like a follower of the traveller which allowed her to disguise her hair beneath a brown shawl.

They moved down through the market district, towards the docks without the ladies being none the wiser to their tail. Or so Miller thought, his opinion of the Queen changed drastically when moments after they turned down a side street, he was kicked in the back of his knee. Miller's leg buckled as he fell to one knee, putting him at a height for his embarrassingly short assailant to press a knife to his jugular.

'Move an inch and I kill you, soldier.' The female voice was familiar, he glanced up at her face and recognised her as Monroe, one of the Queen's ladies in waiting. Before he could think of a thing to say the Queen herself appeared in front of him, looking annoyed.

'Your Majesty.' Miller muttered. He glanced up at Monroe and her knife, she looked so poised and calm. Miller supposed he ought to feel ashamed at having been taken down by a woman so much smaller than him, all he felt was awe.

'Don't say that out here, you idiot. Call me Clarke.' The Queen ordered in a low voice. 'Let him up, Monroe.' Monroe withdrew the knife and Miller rose to his feet, looking around for his men. Miller prayed that somehow they'd missed his takedown. No such luck, he spotted Connor and Derek stifling their laughter. He scowled and made a mental note to transfer them to night duty for the upcoming summer solstice celebrations.

'Do you always stalk unwitting women through the city, captain?' Monroe asked, she was smiling but there was no joy behind it.

'I'm here to protect the- Clarke. Not a stalker.' Miller replied through gritted teeth, glaring back at her.

'All you're doing is drawing attention. You're as subtle as an axe to the head.' Monroe retorted, 'God, I don't even know why you idiots bothered to change clothes. You walk like you're on a parade ground.'

'Okay that's enough!' Clarke snapped, scowling at both of them. 'Miller, send your men back to the castle. I think Monroe has demonstrated that they're unnecessary.'

'I'm not sure I can agree to that.'

'Look, you can save some face and send your boys back to the castle, or I can dispose of them.' Monroe insisted. 'I'm not going to die in this stinking city because of you.'

Miller clenched his hands into fists, he'd never wanted to hit a woman until this day. What galled him even more was the fear sitting low in his gut. He suspected that if he did take a swing at her, Monroe would probably be able to take him. 'Very well.' He beckoned Connor over and ordered him and the others to return to the castle. He turned back to the Queen and Monroe. 'I'm staying with you, if General Blake were to hear I'd left your side he would kill me very slowly.'

'That's fine. Walk with me.' Clarke turned and set off down the street, Miller blinked and fell in next to her. Miller could feel Monroe glaring at his back, it made the back of his neck itch for some reason. After a few minutes Clarke asked him about Bellamy, Miller decided that no harm could come of telling the Queen the real story behind the 100.

By the time he finished his tale, they'd arrived outside a warehouse on the docks. Monroe moved past them and into the building to check it out. 'I heard reports about Arkton's difficulties, this is a lot worse than I'd been led to believe.' Clarke remarked, a few feet away from them a homeless man sat against the side of the building, a bag that undoubtedly held everything he owned was clutched tight against his chest. Miller saw Clarke reach into a pocket and put his hand over her wrist.

'I know it's hard, but if you give him anything you're advertising that you have something to be taken. Down here there are at least a dozen people willing to killing us for two coins within eyesight.' Miller warned her, Clarke glared at him as she withdrew her hand, it was empty so he let out the breath he'd been holding in. 'Besides, a coin isn't going to solve his problems.'

'What will?'

'I'm just a soldier, I don't know.' Miller replied with a shrug. Clarke sighed as Monroe opened the door to the warehouse and beckoned them inside. Miller stopped inside the door, it had been a long time since something on the Docks caught him by surprise.

It was like the wards the army had for their casualties. Rows and rows of cots occupied by the sick and injured. A handful of servants of the Traveller moved amongst them, doing what they could. Miller snapped out of his reverie as Clarke rolled up her sleeves and set to work. Miller tried to stand back and do his job of looking out for any danger, but it didn't take long for Clarke to coerce him into helping her. Miller supposed it was an acceptable risk, after all he was still by Clarke's side and the she demon Monroe hadn't moved from her position next to the doors.

* * *

The entire day was a learning experience for Miller. He thought he knew women, but Monroe had shown him how wrong he was there. He thought he knew nobles, but Clarke challenged his assumptions there also. Miller had never seen a noble support an ailing child as the kid vomited blood into a bucket in his lap.

As the sun began to set Miller and Clarke washed up as best they could and left the warehouse with Monroe taking up the rear once more. Clarke didn't have any more questions for Miller, she was far too tired to make conversation as they walked.

At the palace gates Miller identified himself so that the Queen's identity would not be exposed. As Clarke and Monroe disappeared inside the palace, Miller made his way to the barracks. On his way Connor appeared and told him that Bellamy wanted to see him immediately. Miller could tell from Connor's demeanour that Bellamy didn't want to congratulate him on a job well done.

True to form, Miller found Bellamy pacing his office, a stormy expression on his face. When he spotted Miller Bellamy scowled and turned on his second. 'One job! One fucking job, Miller. Why would you send back the guards and leave her exposed?'

'The Queen is alive and safe.' Miller argued back, he knew from experience that if he bowed to Bellamy's will he'd lose the man's respect.

'That's not what I asked.'

'I sent back the guards because they stood out. In that situation the Queen was safer with less protection.'

'Well that has to be the dumbest fucking thing I ever heard.' Bellamy scoffed.

'Bellamy, I've been your man for five damn years. Have I ever screwed up before? You need to decide to trust me or find someone else to guard the Queen.'

Bellamy scowled as he thought, finally he walked around his desk and sat down. 'If anyone gets to her, you better die in her defence. Or I'll make you wish you were dead.' Bellamy warned Miller, before he ordered the Captain out of his office.

* * *

**So not much happened in this chapter, but it's set up a few things for later, now that I've decided to continue this story.**


	3. Bellamy

Bellamy was sure that from the outside looking in, people expected him to be feeling pretty pleased right about now. Hell, he had plenty of reasons to be happy. Bellamy didn't need check to know that he was the first peasant boy to make General. Plus there was the added bonus of having the Queen under his thumb. He didn't need other people to tell him that he was the most powerful man in two kingdoms (though he did enjoy hearing it).

And yeah, there were times when he sat back and thought about it and it gave him pleasure. He was the kind of bastard to relish being in control. If he'd been born in to power he'd probably have been the most arrogant and big headed noble in history, which was saying something.

Bellamy liked to think of his modest roots as a good thing, because they kept him sharp and hungry. There's nothing like knowing your power is fleeting to keep you focused. Bellamy had fought and tricked and blackmailed his way to the top, it wouldn't take much to topple him. The thought of it kept him awake at nights.

As the first rays of dawn light hit the castle Bellamy lined up another shot. Really, practicing archery first thing in the morning was just smart. It was quiet, and the oppressive summer heat had yet to gain any bite. Best of all there were no audiences to make comment.

Or so Bellamy thought.

'You're not bad, although you have a tendency towards the left.' The comment came just as his latest shot thudded into the target, hitting the edge of the central ring. Bellamy lowered the bow and looked up at the terrace. The little light there was seemed to make her golden curls glow. Not for the first time Bellamy concluded that his life would be a lot simpler if the Queen wasn't quite so beautiful. Things that should have been black and white mixed to grey around her.

'Thanks, I had a lot of time to practice on your soldiers during the war.' Bellamy replied with a smirk. Clarke's eyes narrowed, she straightened up and stepped away from the edge of the terrace and out of sight. Moments later she appeared again on the stairs leading into the garden.

'How goes the search for Wells' killer?' Clarke asked, her mouth pursed with irritation.

'Well, my two prime suspects are right here in the castle under close supervision, so I'm not worried. How was dinner with Lord Finn last night?'

'Much improved on any of our conversations, for a start.' Clarke snapped back, Bellamy resisted the urge to smile. There was something about the way Clarke couldn't help letting him get under her skin that he enjoyed despite himself. 'I asked him why he thinks my mother chose him for the council.'

Bellamy cocked an eyebrow at that. 'This should be good.'

'I'll have you know he answered me honestly and in fullness, to his credit.' Clarke said in Finn's defence. 'He wasn't really mother's choice. She offered the council position to pretty much everyone else before him. No one wanted it. They all think we're on the brink of war and if it comes to it, they don't want to become the first casualties.'

'Yeah, you can always trust a noble to look out for his own hide.' Bellamy snarled. 'It almost makes me wish Wells hadn't been killed, people had a lot more faith in this peace accord with him around.'

'Bellamy.' Clarke said, Bellamy blinked at her use of his name. 'One day you're going to realise that I might just be the best friend you could have right now. We may appear to have nothing in common, but we still want the same things.'

'What's that?'

'Peace. And to not be killed by some Lord looking to claim the throne.'

'I don't need you for a friend to make that happen. Using you as leverage is working out great for me.' Bellamy smirked at Clarke's irritation. But before their conversation could continue a page ran up to Bellamy with a note.

'What is it?' Clarke asked as Bellamy swore.

'Grounders have sacked the village of Glenside. The survivors have just arrived at the palace gates.' Bellamy explained as he jogged out of the garden and into the courtyard. Bellamy stopped short at the sight before him. There couldn't be more than a dozen survivors being aided by the palace guards. Bellamy scanned the faces, looking for one in particular…

'Bell!' The shout was immediately followed by a blur that ran straight for him, Bellamy only had moments to brace himself before the impact.

'Octavia, are you okay?' Bellamy asked, pushing her away so that he could look her over. His gaze zeroed in on a bloody piece of cloth tied around her upper leg. 'O, your leg.'

'I'm okay, it's not that bad.' Octavia replied, trying to pre-emptively calm her brother, but it was to no avail. Bellamy looked up and started shouting for a healer.

'Shut up and move.' Clarke ordered, pushing Bellamy aside as she rolled up her sleeves. Bellamy fell silent as Clarke took a look under the bandage on Octavia's leg. 'It's shallow, nothing important has been cut. You're fine.' Clarke told Octavia.

'I know. But Atom's not.' Octavia pointed to a stretcher being carried through the gates, Clarke marched past her to take a look. Octavia turned back to her brother. 'Who was that?'

'The Queen.' Bellamy explained, before he followed Clarke to look at Atom.

Atom was a mess. Bellamy didn't need to hear Clarke's professional opinion to know that the man was dying. Bellamy stood there and stared, he may not have been the one to put three arrows into Atom's gut, but he still felt responsible for the man's death. Bellamy had ordered Atom to go to Glenside and watch the monastery where he'd sent Octavia.

Clarke had the guards carry Atom to one side, away from the others. They lowered him slowly and gently, but the moment he touched the ground still woke him. Atom panted, fighting for breath against the rising tide of blood in his lungs. His eyes found Bellamy, stared right at him.

'Kill me.' Atom moaned, his voice muffled by the blood in his mouth. Bellamy looked up and spotted Octavia watching him.

'O, go get that leg looked after.' He ordered, Octavia looked ready to fight him on it before Miller appeared and pulled her away to see one of the healers who'd just arrived. Bellamy looked back down at Atom, he pulled a knife out of his boot. Atom eyes were nothing but pain and while logically Bellamy knew he could make it all better for him, he just knelt there staring down at him.

Bellamy snapped out of his reverie when a much smaller and softer hand took the knife from him. Bellamy looked up at Clarke as she ran a hand through Atom's hair and hummed a tune he didn't recognise. He didn't even realise what she'd done with the knife until Atom's breathing faded to nothing. Clarke closed Atom's vacant eyes and handed the bloody knife back to Bellamy.

Bellamy remained there next to Atom as Clarke left to see to another wounded man. In that moment Bellamy wondered if he truly knew anything about anyone.

* * *

Bellamy didn't see his sister again until that afternoon in his office. He'd just received a message from the Queen requesting he speak with her in the council chambers when Octavia pushed in. His sister was clean and wore a new dress, it made him frown to see how pretty she was. Her looks combined with her nature were bound to cause Bellamy no end of grief.

'Bell, there you are.' Octavia had that look in her eyes, the angry defiant one. Bellamy didn't like that look.

'Hey there O. I'd love to stay and chat but I need to meet with the Queen.'

'I've been trying to find you all day, this is important.' Octavia pleaded, Bellamy sighed and sat back down.

'What is it?'

'I don't think we were attacked by Grounders last night.' Octavia began, Bellamy frowned.

'Keep talking.'

* * *

'General Blake, it's about time.' Clarke snapped at him as he entered the council chambers. She was flanked by Miller and Lord Finn, in the background stood one of her ladies, Bellamy thought her name was Monroe.

'Listen here, I'm a busy man. Don't think I'm going to come running every time you snap your damn fingers.'

'Well it's working so far.' Clarke replied with a smirk that made Bellamy's blood boil. 'Miller here has been talking to me about last night's attack on Glenside. He says the witnesses all blame Grounders. But Glenside is ten miles away from the capital and fifty miles from the Grounder border. However you're the General, does this all make sense to you?'

'Clear the room.' Bellamy ordered, he looked over at Finn and scowled. 'That includes you, Lord Asswipe.'

'I take offence to that!'

'You were meant to.' Bellamy replied as Miller escorted a protesting Finn out of the room.

'Why do you dislike Finn so much? He's done nothing to you.'

'Maybe I just do it because I can.' Bellamy shrugged. 'Do you really want to talk about how I treat Finn?'

Clarke glared at him for a moment, before she huffed and glanced down at the map spread over the council table. 'What do you know about last night? Was it really Grounders?'

'Maybe. I wasn't there, so who am I to say?' Bellamy resisted the urge to smile at the Queen's growing anger.

'Can you for five minutes not be a thorn in my side?' Clarke snapped.

'It might have been Grounders, but if it was, they were probably hired by someone for a specific purpose. Last night was not a raid.' Bellamy folded his arms over his chest. 'I have a sister, she's young and a magnet for trouble. So I sent her to a monastery in Glenside where she'd be safe from the world for a few years. I thought these people respected their God if nothing else.'

'Octavia is your sister.' Clarke said, mostly to herself.

'Half-sister.' Bellamy corrected grudgingly. 'I think the same people who killed Wells are responsible for the attack on Glenside. Atom killed six of them in the monastery before he succumbed. They were looking for Octavia. The only reason anyone would want to hurt her is to get to me.'

'And you still have no idea who?' Clarke looked sceptical. 'How hard can it be to find a master assassin? They're supposed to be rare.'

'You think I don't want this bastard? They tried to kill my sister!' Bellamy shouted, stabbing the table with a finger. 'Trust me when I say I'm going to find them, and when I do they won't last long enough for there to be a trial.'

'No. There has to be a trial. People have to see Wells' killer punished, or this will happen again.' Clarke insisted.

Bellamy scowled as he stepped away from the council table. 'I want Octavia to join your ladies in waiting. I think the safest place for her to be is next to the most protected person in the city.'

'That's fine, I will inform Monroe and she will find rooms for Octavia with the others.'

'Good, thank you.'

'General. Is there anything I should know about Octavia?' Clarke asked, her face was a mask of curious indifference. Bellamy thought for a moment about being honest with the Queen. But he'd sworn an oath to Octavia's father to take that secret to the grave, he'd yet to break it even to Octavia.

'She's always looking for trouble, I've tried to keep her safe but it only seems to make her more determined to find it.'

'I think there's more you won't tell me.'

Bellamy shrugged. 'We all have secrets, I'm sure there are things you don't tell me.'

'Of course, but my secrets aren't going to get us all killed.'


End file.
